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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26693083">braver in the dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppy_prose/pseuds/puppy_prose'>puppy_prose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Light Voyeurism, M/M, Masturbation, Oops, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Spit As Lube, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, and he gets caught, and they were ROOMMATES, basically Jaskier jerks off thinking about geralt, lube as lube, mention of rape fantasy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:41:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26693083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppy_prose/pseuds/puppy_prose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t fair, Jaskier decided, that somehow, he’d ended up with one of the sexiest men in the whole college as his dormmate.</p>
<p>Geralt had everything. The muscles, the brains, the kindness. He was mysterious and gruff, but welcoming and warm once one got to know him. He got straight A’s, looked like he belonged to a motor gang, and was an incredibly considerate roommate--a fact that Jaskier had to not only get used to, but also absorb some himself, if only to show Geralt that he was worth sticking around with and not ask for a transfer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>399</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>braver in the dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t fair, Jaskier decided, that somehow, he’d ended up with one of the <em> sexiest </em> men in the whole college as his dormmate. </p>
<p>Geralt had everything. The muscles, the brains, the kindness. He was mysterious and gruff, but welcoming and warm once one got to know him. He got straight A’s, looked like he belonged to a motor gang, and was an incredibly considerate roommate--a fact that Jaskier had to not only get used to, but also absorb some himself, if only to show Geralt that he was worth sticking around with and not ask for a transfer. </p>
<p>After all, being in the same dorm meant that he got to see Geralt in <em> many </em> stages. He got to see him sweaty and tired after coming back from the gym; he got to see him damp from the shower, his unfairly gorgeous white hair still dripping down the lines of his neck despite Geralt’s attempts at getting them decently dry. He got to see Geralt wolf down food when he missed a meal for some reason or another--got to watch him as he did the dishes every time he cooked like some god of roommate-ing or something--got to be there when Geralt was sleepy and yawning, his unfairly sharp canine teeth on display, his warm eyes soft, his entire body screaming vulnerability. Hell, sometimes Jaskier even got to <em> touch, </em> combing out his hair when Geralt had had enough of it, patching him up when he inevitably got in another fight trying to protect someone or another. </p>
<p>So, yeah. Jaskier had maybe-kind-of-really fallen head over heels for Geralt. So what? No big deal. He’d had crushes before; he’d pined and whined and sought out love where it wasn’t reciprocated. But <em> gods. </em> He’d never had to spend night after night, sleeping in the same room as that crush, their beds on opposite walls, <em> so fucking close. </em> He’d never had to go through the inevitable stage of jacking off to that crush nearly every night knowing that that person was <em> right there </em> and, in Geralt’s case, had really kind of freaky super-hearing. </p>
<p>Didn’t stop him from doing it anyway, though.</p>
<p>Turned on his side, facing the wall away from Geralt, Jaskier let his hands slide slowly under his blankets. It was easy to get his pajama pants down, pushing them to his knees, his cock already half-hard just from the sight he’d been treated to just before they’d turned the lights out--Geralt, grunting and huffing as he stretched out his shoulders and back from a long workout session, shirtless, his muscles rippling, tensing, loosening… Jaskier shoved his bottom lip between his teeth as he conjured the memory up with ease, eyes fluttering shut as he imagined it. </p>
<p>Those muscles would look so good above him. Geralt, flexing and strong, bearing him down into the mattress. Gods, Geralt could take <em> whatever he wanted, </em> he realized, and the thought made his cock twitch in his hand, plumping up more. So it was going to be one of <em> those </em> fantasies tonight, he supposed.</p>
<p>Sliding his hand back up, he reached below his pillow. Thankfully, Geralt was also considerate enough to generally leave Jaskier’s things alone, unless they were directly in his way. Which meant he had no idea about the bottle of lube that practically lived somewhere in his bed at all times, in case he brought someone home--or in case something like this happened. He pulled it out and uncorked it, trying to muffle the pop of the cap as quietly as he could in his side, before dribbling some onto his palm. Again, he used his body to muffle the noise as he closed the lid and left it beside him, hand returning to his cock once again. </p>
<p>Yeah, he thought. Geralt was so fucking <em> strong. </em> It wouldn’t take much at all for him to pin Jaskier down. He could drag an arm behind his back, hold it there, keep him pressed into the bed. His fingers, perhaps wet by his own spit, Geralt having shoved them into his mouth to keep him quiet, keep him from raising any alarm, would slide between his legs, push against his hole. It’d be humiliating, his own roommate opening him up, none too gentle about it, spreading him--and gods, Jaskier <em> knows </em> he’d be moaning by then, hope of fleeing gone, <em> desire </em> to flee gone. Maybe Geralt would make fun of him for it, too.</p>
<p>Choking down a whine, Jaskier shifted in the bed. He turned onto his back, spreading his legs open as much as he could, trousers kicked down to his ankles. His hand fell from his cock, down past it, sliding between the cheeks of his own ass until he could press one, then two slick fingers inside. It burned a little; he really should have added more lube. But that slight pain was perfect for the way his thoughts were going. </p>
<p>Keeping his eyes closed, he let his mind return. Imagining a weight on his chest, pretending the bed at his back was Geralt bearing down on him and the heavy blankets atop him was the bed he was being shoved into--it was very hard to open himself on his stomach while remaining lying down to avoid Geralt’s detection, he’d found--he pushed his free hand under his body, pinning it behind his back. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best he could do.</p>
<p><em> “Fucking slut,” </em> he imagined Geralt would say, scissoring inside of him, his own fingers mimicking the fantasy. <em> “Can’t wait for me to take you, can you? You’re already wet for me, like a bitch in heat.” </em> </p>
<p>Geralt, surely, was too nice to actually say any of that. Jaskier wanted, though. He wanted so fucking badly. That gravelly voice, the uncaring drawl he’d have, just like all the times he’d warned off assholes on their nights out at pubs or wherever, just before punches would start flying. Only with him, Geralt would push in a third finger, make him take the intrusion whether he was ready or not, and--</p>
<p>“G-Ger…”</p>
<p>Jaskier twisted his hand free from behind his back, shoving it flat against his own mouth. <em> Fuck. </em> He shook from the strain, his cock brushing against the blankets above him, and he wanted nothing more than to rock up into them--but he stayed still, very very still, listening as Geralt gave a soft sigh from the other side of the room, readjusted himself, and settled back down. </p>
<p>He controlled his breathing as best he could for a few more minutes, wanting to make sure. If Geralt found out about this… Jaskier wouldn’t be surprised if he was tossed out on his ass, perhaps with a report to the RA, or even the Dean of the school. No, he had to be very, very careful about this. Even if he didn’t want to be.</p>
<p>But nothing happened during those minutes. So carefully, cautiously, Jaskier started to move his fingers again. He’d gotten up to three, just like his fantasy, before having to stop. The minutes had taken some of the burn away, though, and he had to stretch them out, fingers pulling apart to get it back, his eyes rolling up into his head at the sheer pleasure that sparked through him. It felt so fucking <em> good, </em> and while they weren’t Geralt’s fingers, it didn’t take away the heat that coursed through him, heady and strong. </p>
<p>He kept them stretched, kept them wide apart as he imagined Geralt pulling his own fingers back out. Maybe Geralt would finally use the lube on his cock--or maybe, maybe, he'd make Jaskier choke on it instead, get it wet and slick from his own spit. And <em> gods, </em> that was a thought, and before he knew it, he had his own fingers in his mouth, hole fluttering around the new emptiness, his breathing hard, nearly panting around the digits pressing wide and deep into his mouth. It was a messy business; thank goodness tomorrow was his laundry day. But it was too good to stop, and he was shivering with want, hips giving tiny twitches against the blankets when he finally withdrew his fingers. </p>
<p><em> “See?” </em> Geralt would say. <em> “Such a cockslut. Getting off on sucking my dick. Bet you could come like that, couldn’t you? I could force my cock down into your throat, make you gag on it, and you’d take it just as well as if I were fucking you.” </em> </p>
<p>Another little whimper escaped him, but Jaskier was, decidedly, a little too far gone to care. He pushed his fingers back inside of himself, not bothering to take it slow, his back arching a few degrees off the bed in reaction. He had to shove his hand over his mouth again to keep his sounds in, to keep from begging and keening like he wanted to, caught up in the fantasy, in the thought of Geralt fucking into him, making him take every inch, making him raw and aching and sore, filling him to the fucking brim--</p>
<p>There was a whisper of sound, a brush of air, just enough to get Jaskier’s attention, and when he opened his eyes--<em> oh fuck. </em> </p>
<p>A dark face stood over him, silver strands of hair framing him. Geralt. <em> Geralt. </em> Oh, fucking <em> shit. </em> </p>
<p>Jaskier pulled his fingers out of himself, the obscenely wet sound of it suddenly loud in the silent dorm, the blankets on him too hot, his mind blanking for something to say. “Ger--Geralt!” he squeaked, dropping his hand from his mouth, his pupils still blown wide, his cock still hard and full beneath the very meager protection of the sheets. “This--this isn’t--it’s not what it, uh, what it looks like, I’m just--”</p>
<p>“Having a wank with my name in your mouth?” Geralt rumbled back at him, his brow raised. Jaskier withered, his lips pressing together. He’d really cocked this one up, hadn’t he? Shit. How was he going to make this up? Would he even be given the chance to try to fix it?</p>
<p>“I’m--look I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, let me just--”</p>
<p>A hand fitted over his mouth--but this time, it wasn’t Jaskier’s own. No, it was Geralt’s, his callouses rough on his soft lips, shutting him up. He swallowed hard, nearly audible, not sure what Geralt was going to do. </p>
<p>“You really should be more quiet,” Geralt told him. Then, to Jaskier’s surprise, the hand turned, and--<em> fuck. </em> Geralt pushed two fingers against his lips, making them part, pressing in and sliding the pads of the digits against his tongue, pushing it down. “Every night, Jaskier. Every night for the past week. So stupidly loud. You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” He bent down, then, breaking the distance between them. Jaskier whimpered, not trying to close his mouth, nearly cross eyed in an attempt to see Geralt clearly. “You really think I wouldn’t <em> want </em> to fuck you if you asked?”</p>
<p>Oh. <em> Oh. </em> </p>
<p>Geralt must have seen the realization in his eyes. A smirk pulled up his lips; the next moment, Geralt snagged the blankets from the bed, throwing them unceremoniously to the floor. He pulled his fingers from his mouth, only to wipe them on Jaskier’s cheek, spreading his own spit. Jaskier whined. “Geralt, I--”</p>
<p>“Shush,” the other man said. He got up on the bed with him, pulling Jaskier’s legs around him, letting him dig his heels into the small of his back. Jaskier realized, with a thrill, that Geralt had gotten rid of his own trousers on the way over. His head threw back as their cocks pressed together, Geralt rutting down onto him mercilessly. “You don’t want everyone to hear, do you?” His hands found Jaskier’s wrists; pulling them up, he pinned them above his head with one hand, those incredible muscles flexing, the slats of moonlight through the window throwing each one into sharp relief. Jaskier opened and closed his hands, but didn’t fight back--didn’t <em> want </em> to. </p>
<p>Geralt’s free hand wrapped around them both. He gave a choked sob, doing his best to bite down on it, keep it in. He was spared, though, by Geralt bending and kissing him. It was a brutal thing. Tongue and teeth and <em> force, </em> Geralt opened him up, licked his way inside his mouth. It was so much--too much--and his lips were swollen and red when Geralt pulled back to instead start sucking on his throat, teeth gnawing bruises to the surface, tongue soothing the sting of them. They were high, too, a few just below his jaw; there was no way he’d be able to hide these marks. Geralt was making it very clear that Jaskier was <em> owned. </em> That Jaskier was <em> his. </em> And <em> fuck, </em> that had the power to turn him into a writhing mess, only keeping from babbling because Geralt had commanded him to be quiet. </p>
<p>Geralt’s hand moved from their cocks, then. He slid it down to his entrance, pushing two fingers inside—then grunting with surprise before adding a third, resistance appearing only at that point. “Fuck,” he growled, biting down on the crook of Jaskier’s neck and shoulder, making his entire body feel like it was turning to mush. “Thought you’d only gotten to two fingers. But you were really fucking yourself, weren’t you? No wonder you were moaning so loud.” Unwittingly, he mimicked Jaskier from only minutes before; he spread his fingers, forcing them wide open. This time, though, Jaskier couldn’t stop the desperate cry the fell from his lips, hips jerking, tears springing to his eyes from the delicious burn, the wonderful stretch. </p>
<p>He kept pushing, kept opening Jaskier until he was practically sobbing, his thighs trembling against the sides of Geralt’s hips. Finally, though, he seemed to take mercy on him. </p>
<p>He withdrew his fingers, instead grabbing Jaskier’s hands and pressing them to either side of his head, holding him down. With Jaskier’s legs around him, it was easy to rock their hips together, his cock sliding obscenely in the crevice of his ass, snagging on the rim of his entrance with each push upwards. “I’m gonna fuck you, Jask,” he growled to the man below him, who simply nodded frantically, eager. “Gonna make you <em> scream.” </em> </p>
<p>“Please,” Jaskier agreed frantically, nodding, flushed red and unable to hold still, twitching and shivering underneath Geralt. “Please, please, I want you to! Please, fuck me!”</p>
<p>Geralt’s chuckle was low, dark. He nipped Jaskier’s lower lip, carefully lined himself up—and slammed in. </p>
<p>His promise came true. Jaskier <em> howled, </em> his back arching, his heels dragging Geralt in closer. He made for a beautiful sight, utterly wrecked from just the first thrust, and Geralt was more than happy to make sure he had his fill. He didn’t hold back, either. Jaskier was already stretched. So Geralt set a brutal, punishing pace. </p>
<p>The slap of their bodies was obscene in the room, Jaskier’s cries of Geralt’s name both embarrassing and a relief to finally be able to say without repercussions. Geralt kept his hands pinned—again, no doubt bruises would be his friend come tomorrow, and Jaskier couldn’t be more excited—as he kept pounding into him, pushing him into the mattress, the bed frame creaking with the force of it all. </p>
<p>Geralt kissed him again, rough, taking what he wanted. He seemed to speed up; Jaskier could do nothing but take it, delirious with pleasure, the pressure in the low of his hips building and building. </p>
<p>Then, Geralt bit down on his throat, just below his ear. “Come for me,” he commanded, gravelly and dark and powerful—so much better than how Jaskier had imagined it. And so much more effective. A few thrusts later and Jaskier practically screamed, his body going taut as he came, painting between them white with his release, cock twitching until he was empty. But Geralt—Geralt kept going. </p>
<p>It dragged pained whimpers from him, the overstimulation too much, too soon. “I’ve got you,” Geralt told him, soothing him, settling him into accepting it. “Fuck, Jask. I’ve got you. Gonna fill you up. Make you take every last drop of my cum.” </p>
<p>Head thrown back, at Geralt’s mercy, Jaskier could do nothing but let him fuck into him, trembling through every inch. But finally—<em> finally </em> Geralt came. He snarled with it, his teeth snapping into Jaskier’s shoulder, holding him down as he pumped him full of his seed. He rocked into him, slower, shallower, as if trying to push his cum further into Jaskier, only stopping when he was growing soft inside him. </p>
<p>With care, Geralt pulled out. He shushed the tired whine that fell from Jaskier’s lips, turning him on his side and sidling up behind him. Jaskier floated pleasantly, sated and wrecked, utterly fucked out. Gods, his fantasies had never come close. <em> Double gods— </em>his fantasies might actually become a reality, now. Holy shit.</p>
<p>“Next time,” Geralt said, hooking a leg over top of his, keeping him tucked in close. “Just wake me up when you get horny.”</p>
<p>Oh, Jaskier thought. Hopefully Geralt didn’t mind missing a lot of sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happen to like this fic? <a href="https://puppy-prose.tumblr.com">Come send me more prompts!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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